


Morning

by agent85



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [42]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8724094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: A little explanation as to why FitzSimmons are wearing the same clothes two days in a row (as seen in 3x17 and 3x18, after their "magnificent" evening in Fitz's room).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to week forty-seven of my [52 short stories in 52 weeks challenge](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/52)! This week's prompt: a story about a magic spell.

Fitz wasn't sure where he was at first, only that his back ached from sleeping on the . . . against the . . . 

Jemma.

She was lit by the lamp they'd forgotten to turn off—soft skin, long eyelashes, curved lips. It took a moment before it all came back, the talking, the worrying, the comforting. The kissing. He'd kissed her last night, or maybe she'd kissed him; he couldn't tell. He was trying to cheer her up, and then she'd taken his hand, put her head on his shoulder, and it was over. It was easy, and necessary. It was like breathing, or falling asleep. He'd fallen into her at the same time she was reaching up for him.

And she was still there, her head still on her shoulder, her hands still wrapped around his. She was keeping him there.

She wanted him there. She wanted to be there.

He wouldn't have believed it if he didn't know her so well, if he hadn't spent two years watching her and holding his breath. She was thoughtful, careful, deliberate. Love couldn't sneak up on her like it did to him, lapping against his ankles until the current pulled him under. She would have walked into it. She would have jumped in. She would have chosen him.

Incredible as it was, Jemma Simmons was too smart not to know what she was doing, and too kind not to mean it.

Could he kiss her right now? He wanted to. He could press a kiss to her lips, soft as the sunrise, and she would wake up knowing she was important. He could unwrap his heart and shower her with dammed up affection.

He almost did it before she stirred a little, burying herself deeper into him and leaving him spellbound. He froze, wholly subservient to the beat of her pulse and the rhythm of her breaths. If he ever believed in magic, it would be in this: that she clung to him like he was life, that she smiled against his chest, that she mumbled something that might be his name. If he could cast a spell, he would stop the world and make this moment last forever. He'd fallen asleep with a woman who wanted to wake up with him, and there was no better feeling in the world. Was this what they were now?

They had talked about life, and love, and the universe, but they hadn't talked about them. Not in specifics. Not about kissing in labs and holding hands on missions. Not about what she meant when she said they couldn't waste time. 

He would ask her, somehow. He would use words; walk into this the way she did.

But there was no reason why he had to wake her up to do it.

Now, he could fall back against her. He could stretch out this moment and live in it. He could treasure every second he had by her side.

And as he drifted off, head resting on hers, he told himself that that was exactly what he intended to do. 

He told himself that he would never let her go.

**Author's Note:**

> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


End file.
